Back in action

It took time away to realize how much I missed Las Vegas. I had to wake up at fucking 5:50 in the AM eastern standard time, because by Momma Moulton’s gorrilla math that was the only way to make my 8:00 AM flight. Shit possibly got about two hours sleep before trudging to the Philadelphia tarmac. After braving the high school age secuirty staff, I was able to make it to my gate by about 7:30 and subsequently watched out the window as three maintanence men tried to work on the apparently faulty engine of the plane I had planned to board. These jackasses had no idea what to do with this thing, and if I had means to get carted out to them, I would have set shit straight. Clearly, they needed to utilize ball bearings in some manner, its all ball bearings these days.
The kindly America West staff announced that they would procur another aircraft, and we scurried to an adjacent gate before boarding a smaller plane. It turned out that my seat 9A did not exist on this new vessel due to a reallignment of the emergency exit row, so I slid into 10A and hoped people were none the wiser. When 10A came true and tried to claim a seat that was rightfully hers, I looked at my ticket, looked back at her, then looked out the window. The steward was able to place her in a similar seat in the rear of the aircraft as I continued to avoid eye contact. As they were filling the final seats, some tough guy started making a fuss about not taking a seat in the back because of America West’s inefficiency. Shit was out of line, and everyone on the plane just wanted him to shut the fuck up so they could try to make the connecting flights they had all been delayed from. I figured it was my duty to take one for the team and volunteered to sit in the back instead. Big mistake, big fucking mistake. They sat me next to this arab dude with bad BO and the kind of beard that screams “Jihad or die, or both.” Im not sayin that all people of mesopotamian decent shouldnt be allowed to fly due to my racist fears, just that they shouldnt be allowed to fly next to me. How the fuck am I suppossed to sleep next to this caricature? I was dead fucking tired and I could barely shut my eyes. By the time we got to vegas, I was just ready to put in my 4 hours work tutoring and get the fuck to sleep.
I grabbed my shit from baggage claim and headed to the taxi line, whereby I got the kind of grizzled cab driver who reaffirmed my faith in america. Shit had an Uncle Sam beard, unlike my former seatmates Ayatollah beard, and though they are basically the same facial hair they carry vastly different messages. I asked him how long he had been in vegas, and he said 29 years. The follow up question of why he came originally was returned with “I did two tours in Vietnam right out of high school, then I came here.” It was about as grizzled a response as I could hope for and I knew I just had to get this guy talking if I wanted to hear some fucked up shit. I asked what he thought of the situation Iraq and he just started rolling. He was all for the war and even believed we should attack Syria, Iran, and another country that possibly didnt exist. He thought there should be a mandatory one year of service for all men as well as an open draft from age 18-70. He further pontificated that Deep Throat should be tried and executed for treason because Nixon would have finished Vietnam right unlike that pussy Jimmy Carter. There was signifigant Carter bashing before he was able to move on and say that some reporter named Novak should also be tried and executed for publishing confidential CIA information. It was about a ten minute cab ride, but it was exactly what I needed to welcome me back to vegas. That and the ensuing mcrib.
I finished my tutoring, and came home to find my roommate Russell salivating at the possibility of hitting a poker table. I was dead tired, but I couldnt say no, so we headed to the mandalay bay to take down a few tourists. I was fucking crossing cats out there at 4/8 limit, and ended up netting 135 profit in about three hours. Shits couldnt handle my force, but Russell didnt fare as well at a nearby table and stepped out to play a little video poker. I went in search of him, looking to go home and finally pass the fuck out and what I found was a bouncer at the House of Blues offering me free food and a look at the new Xbox 360. Im not one to pass up free food for any occassion, so I decided to abandon my roommate and take it the fuck down.
Once inside there were like 4 display models to play the new gaming system, a DJ spinnin tunes at top volume, and a spread worthy of chili’s appetizer menu. In a word, dominant. I loaded up on spinich and artichoke did with chips, pulled pork sandwhich, and a couple egg rolls. The dessert table was equally inviting with all sorts of brownies and cookies, so it was not ignored. I found Russell so he could also enjoy the bounty and then as we finished up, took a cursory glance at the only game they had running on the xbox. Shit was a shooter simulation which I guess is the only shit out, a new version of perfect dark. Im not sayin that it isnt sweet for the people who know how to use the 48 button controller, but I could never get into all that head turnin camera angle displacing triple joystick shit that bastardized the gaming industry. Give me two buttons and a control pad, point me towards Don Flamingo, and Im a happy man. The goal of a video game is entertainment, not to learn how to operate a motherboard or whatever the fuck. Im not saying the graphics arent sweet, or that true gamers wont enjoy it, shit just wasnt my style. Instead, I went back to plate number three of pulled pork, and watched the Xbox hoochie dancers shake their shit. There is no other city in America where I could have had the day I did yesterday. Its good to be home.

Back in action

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